The Rat King Archives
Skeins of Fate, Part II

Khyrisse glanced down at the recorder,
then back to Norn with an absent-minded nod of thanks.
The time and cause of my true death.
Khyrisse stared into the distance, something Wyvern had told her echoing
through her head. She shook her head
slowly. "I don't think I want to know the time and cause of my
death," Khyrisse said. She hesitated, and then continued with a reluctant,
pained sort of look. "Except perhaps in a single respect, and I'm not sure
you'd know. I'm not familiar with all the powers of the Valkyrie." She
waved this aside. "It doesn't matter. You could give Flicker his freedom
if you're of a mind to trade fairly..."

Khyrisse ordered her thoughts, and started
explaining. "To my knowledge, Flicker had nothing to do with the cause of
the deaths of the Gods. I met him when my avatar appeared in Lianth, at the
beginning of the Madness. We were spared the effects of the Madness because we
were inside the Mithril Dagger when it happened. Over the next four days, our
group of friends and allies determined that Shadow and one of the Weird Sisters
had formed an alliance bent on the destruction of Ataniel, and eventually we
stopped them. Flicker and I witnessed the deaths of two of the gods, but that's
all. All that remain of the old gods are Rip Hunter and myself, and both of
us," she added wryly, lifting her bare right hand, "are mortal."

Vas blinked at Khyrisse suddenly, with a
look that was equal parts surprise, fascination, and amusement. Valende turned
to look at Khyrisse as well, but her expression was far more serious than her
brother's. Skitch, under the table, grinned in satisfaction at the elves.
Didn't know that, did you? I know all about it. *mneah!*

Character(s)::
NornaAuthor::
Laura RedishStoryline::
Skeins of FateTitle
of Post:: Gods and men

It had succeeded in catching Starshadow's
attention. Norn leaned forward intently as the sorceress spoke, her eye very
bright. "Yes, yes," she said, impatiently, "you're mortal
now. I am aware of your skein, Merchant
Queen. What about Ragnarokkr? It has
been prophesied. He saved the mortal
realms; he must have destroyed the gods. He must have done something to lead to
that. What was it?" Norn breathed. "Listen, when I knew him four
years ago, he was this scrawny git of a thief who spent most of his time hiding
behind Sigrid. Things have changed. And I know he has done something. I just
need to know what it is."

Character(s)::
AriathAuthor::
Douglass BarreStoryline::
Rat Kings and Dead VillainsTitle
of Post:: Please Phrase It In The Form Of A Question, Norn

It came to Ariath with a flash of insight.
Norn didn't know that Flicker was the Sunfighter. Ariath closed the origin of
that knowledge off quickly with the training she had gotten from the Diari
psionic... The Sunfighter curse was known to few, but Ariath was one of those
few. Still, how to tell Norn without revealing too much...

"Damned if I know. I never met the
man before today," Tor offered. "He seemed to recognize me, but
that's happened a lot in this paranoid town."

Ariath brought one hand up to her eye,
pretending to brush away a strand of hair. With her other hand, she caught the
daylight on her spoon and flashed it quickly at Norn. Silver. Eyes. Get it, you
Nordic bitch, she thought. "The
sun's brighter today than usual," she said.

Norn looked at her curiously, and Ariath
watched realization dawn.

About fucking time, Ariath thought, and
redoubled her mental defenses until even she almost wasn't sure how she knew
what she knew.

Character(s)::
KhyrisseAuthor::
Kristin L.K. AndersenStoryline::
The Rats of R.U.M.I.Title
of Post:: Take Your Foot Off the Accelerator, Ariath...

Khyrisse saw the flash of light cross
Norn's face, the flare of silver at the edge of her vision. She saw realization
dawn on Norn's face. Khyrisse turned and caught Ariath lowering her hand from
her eye with some inane comment about the weather.

Khyrisse's pupils widened in fury until
her eyes seemed all black. Beautiful, Ariath. And here I've been dancing around
the topic for five minutes now. If Flicker dies, you'll wish I killed you on
sight.

Turning back to Norn, she sighed and said,
"Some things have changed... and some things," she added, glaring
briefly at Ariath, "remain the same. Flicker did NOT destroy the gods. He
became the Sunfighter. There's a BIG difference."

Character(s)::
Robinson Paris, special surprise HeroesAuthor::
Douglass BarreStoryline::
The Unbearable Swankness of BeingTitle
of Post:: Why they call him the >Mad< Doctor Swank

Robinson Paris hung by his feet from a
strange metal clamp. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and he hoped
that his old heart could handle the strain of pumping it back uphill. The
wizened little man was dancing around his laboratory, singing something about
"I can have it all, I can dance all through the night." Weird.
Robinson had recognized several of the thugs working for the Mad Doctor from
the old Trade Newses. They were one-time members of a hero group called the
Sewer Tour. One was a tall, bald man with a strange drawl. Another was a midget
with an antic disposition. The third was a strange, pale, black-and-white
woman. The three had easily taken Robinson, and now he was at Swank's mercy.
"What a feeling!" Swank sang, twirling
a glass lab beaker around like a dancing partner. "Dancing like I've never
danced before..."

The trick floor to the building upstairs
roared into life, lowering a fourth figure. "Moria, my good little
minion," Swank said to the black haired man, "have you procured the
genetic material I need?"

"I have, Master Swank," came a
beautiful baritone voice. Robinson recognized the new person as Janther Moria,
another Sewer Tourist. He had heard a tale once from Shalini Kyber about Moria,
but he had thought the orator to be dead.

"Excellent. I'm so glad I was able to
salvage you four from the destruction of my old lab. Too bad I lost the Luthien
and the Silverhammer samples. Destroyed in that blasted fire."
The mad scientist seemed to exposit a lot,
Robinson noticed.

Robinson sighed. Someone had better get
him the hell out of here. Someone. Anyone.

***

In the Mithril Dagger, Kevin watched the
door swing open without resistance.

"Howdy, Candi. Bambi. What're you
doing in Lianth?"

"Lianth?" Candi asked.

Bambi pouted. "I knew we should've
taken that left turn at Neporris."

Character(s)::
Khyrisse, Vas, Valende and SkitchAuthor::
Kristin L.K. AndersenStoryline::
The Rats of R.U.M.I.Title
of Post:: Psychoamazon Warbitch from Hell with an Attitude

Khyrisse stood up, staring at Norn's empty
chair. She didn't dare look at Ariath. If I look at her, I'll kill her.
"Son of a BITCH!!!" Khyrisse
shouted in Elven, slamming both small fists onto the tabletop. Plates and
glasses jumped wildly, their clatter drowned out by the swelling noise of the
mob outside. An eager gleam lit in
Khyrisse's eyes at the sound. She spun on her heel and whisked out the door,
looking for a reasonable excuse to beat the hell out of someone.

Vas glanced up at his sister on the
stairs. "Looks like it's time to earn our keep," he said.
Ebreth, translator of body language, noticed
a definite withdrawal from Ariath's person in Vas' movements as he gathered his
weapon and sped after Khyrisse. NOT
getting laid, Ebreth decided with a muted grin, looking at Ariath's suddenly
annoyed face.

"I'll be there in a moment," Valende
called over her shoulder, running up the stairs again. "I want to warn
Jack."

Jack, looking out the window at what
seemed to be another mob, was surprised when Valende burst into the room.
"Jack, I am sorry, but we have no time for rest," she said, glancing
at the bathtub, and then the bed, with a sigh. "There is more trouble
outside. The Lady Khyrisse has gone to stop it, I think; she is very angry. My
brother and I must protect her." With that, Valende turned around and ran
back downstairs again.

Skitch sat hidden under his table and
waited, watching the people left behind.

"Sunfighter?" said Pieret.
"Who is that? That sounds vaguely familiar."

"What are you looking at me
for?" said Ariath.

"What a nice lady," said Ebreth.
"Don't you wish all villains would buy you dinner?" He looked out the
window. "I wonder who that poor S.O.B. looks like." He headed out
after Khyrisse, who seemed improbably upset for someone who had just learned
that a missing friend was probably alive. He did still owe her one. And Ebreth
Tor had to admit, she was a fine looking woman when she got angry.

***

She had been hoping for a simpler answer.
Some little thing in his past she had neglected, overlooked. The Valkyrie were
far from omniscient. Now she had Frigg only knew how many pathways to search
and she was running out of time. Sunfighter. She looked at the cube of stasis
on the shelf. It could have been any of them who had set the wheels to turning.
Prophecies had hinged on thinner continuities. It could have been anything. And
it was looking more and more like Eren Messala was the only one who could tell
her.

Norna rested her face in her hands and
closed her eyes. The skeins of fate. Are never straight. The skeins of fate.

"Don't think you'll be getting away
that easy, handsome," Ariath said under her breath with an unusual tone of
menace. Fortunately, Ebreth Tor was the only one who caught it, and he decided
very quickly that he was not going to get involved.
Outside, the crowd had gathered around a Diarian. Stranger yet, a
Diarian priest by the look of him.

"Get the outlander!" cried one
townsperson.

"Burn him!" shouted another.

"Damn Diarians!"

"Something ought to be done."

Jack Paris stepped out from the door of
the inn, immaculate. "Boy, friendly town the rat took us to."

The rat, he thought. I forgot all about
the rat!

He looked in his bag, and the rat was
gone. "Oh, crap in a bucket,"
he breathed. "Stuck in Rumi without my rat."

The townspeople had slung a noose over a
nearby tree, and were quickly surrounding the Diarian.
Jack did the math. "Hey!" he
shouted to his comrades. "I think they're
going to hang that guy!"

Vas raised his eyebrow at Valende. She
shrugged. "I like 'em smart and clueless," she smiled.

***

Beliath took a face out of the Cabinet of
Lives.

"This one should do," he said.
"Grayson Mer, freelance planeblazer."

The leader of the Dead College's form
shifted into that of a tall, lithe woman with long brown hair.

In minutes, he was in Rumi.

***

Lilith rechecked the entrails of the
sacrifice. The stupid worshippers had sacrificed a dying man, so the entrails
were almost useless. Still, one thing was clear.

"Geryon," she shouted.
"I've found one. I don't know which one, mind you, stupid cultists, but
I've got a location."

Character(s)::
Ebreth TorAuthor::
Laura RedishStoryline::
Rat KingsTitle
of Post:: There are mobs and then there are mobs

Ebreth Tor frowned and his eyes grew
narrow. He might not have noticed it if he hadn't been acquainted with a
spontaneous mob just that morning, but a spontaneous mob this was not. The
crowd was milling about but not driving forward. The two men holding the
Diarian and the one with the rope had staged it. Ebreth guessed that the guy
weaving through the crowd and ranting was a plant. That was when he noticed the
hoof. "HEY!" he shouted. "That one's a devil! Look at his feet!
These guys are priests of Lucifer!"

"Pieret?" said Ariath, sweetly.

"Why are you looking at me?"

Character(s)::
Tarrin and a cast of thousandsAuthor::
Jeff HershStoryline::
Mind GamesTitle
of Post:: Nice day for a lynching

The mob surprised Tarrin. Before he
could react they had knocked him unconscious. When he awoke he was a bit
surprised to find himself surrounded by a crowd of screaming barbarians, with a
rope around his neck, sitting on a horse.

"Oh, this is great," he thought.
"Well, I guess I have to do something."

Tarrin quickly ran through a list of
things he could do to escape from this predicament. The crowd was too large for
him to affect psionically, and he was sure if he weakened the rope that would
just enrage the crowd. That left him only one option. He would levitate himself
just enough to make it look like they hung him when in fact he would be safe.
Tarrin drew power from himself and willed himself to float just as the horse
bolted from under him.

The crowd cheered with murderous rage as
Tarrin hung from the tree. Just then a rank mist materialized around the
hanging body of Tarrin. The crowd grew suddenly silent as the mist flowed from
around Tarrin and through the crowd. As it passed, people either started
retching or fled screaming in terror.

"I don't like this," said
Ariath.

The mist moved one way then another. It
looked as if it was hunting for something. Then it rushed forward with blinding
speed and surrounded Ebreth Tor and Val. Tor screamed from within the mist as
sounds of ripping flesh echoed down the street. Then, just as suddenly as the
mist appeared, it was gone. Tor, while looking unharmed, was lying unconscious
on the ground, and Val, white as a sheet was beside him.

Val looked up at Khyrisse. "It was
that thing from the sewers. It... it said I was next."

The mob had all but disappeared by the
time the mist vanished. Tarrin, sensing he was safe, tried to will the rope to
weaken. However, it wouldn't obey.
"That is strange," he thought. "A psionically resistant
rope." Tarrin then heard the sound
of chewing from above him. He opened his eyes and looked up. A rat without a
tail was gnawing through the rope. From the look of it the rodent was doing a
quick job, as well. Soon the rope broke free and Tarrin lowered himself to the
ground.

"Thank you," he said to the rat.

Tarrin then walked over to where the
unconscious human was. He could tell he was hurt and needed some help.
"Excuse me," he said to the people
around him in Diari. He then placed his
hand on Ebreth's head and concentrated. After a moment, Ebreth opened his eyes
and began to scream.

"You know, every time I think I know
what's going on, things get really weird," Jack murmured. Val seemed
somehow affected by the mist, so he knelt by her and put a calming hand on her
shoulder. "Okay, I know that was
bad, but how many fingers am I holding up?"
Val looked at him like he had a cat on his head.
"Um, better yet, are you okay? I've got
some mints in my satchel, unless the rat ate them."

Pieret, muttering something about priests
of Lucifer having hooved feet being a stupid urban legend, had grabbed the
ranting man. "What do you mean to do, inciting this crowd?"

"Law for the people!" the man
yelled.

"Damn, I can't argue with that,"
Pieret sighed.

"I can," said Ariath, and she
conked the guy on the head.

The rope holding the Diarian broke.
"There's my rat!" Jack shouted.

Ebreth Tor had gathered enough of his
senses to whisper, "Ah, yes, and we'd have been lost otherwise."

***

Geryon watched from the window of a nearby
inn. Idiots, he thought. Priests of Lucifer don't have hooved feet. Stupidest
thing I ever heard... it's the small horn-like phrenology bumps that gives them
away.

Character(s)::
Khyrisse, Vas and ValendeAuthor::
Kristin L.K. AndersenStoryline::
The Rats of R.U.M.I.Title
of Post:: It's a Damned Poor Culture That Can Only Think of One Way to
Pronounce a Word

Khyrisse pushed her way through the
scattering crowd to where the Diari was standing over Ebreth. There was no way
they were going to catch the instigators in THIS chaos. Devils, Priests of
Lucifer, your common or garden Raving Lunatic-- didn't matter. She tossed an
emotion spell at those people who looked like they'd rather stick around and
murder themselves a ferriner. With the added impetus of fear, the square
emptied rapidly. Khyrisse then dropped
down next to the badly shaken Ebreth. Picking up his dark hand in her alabaster
one, she held it and sent him an encouraging smile.
She glanced at the stranger and asked, in Elven-accented High Diari,
"Pardon me, sir, but this gentleman is my colleague. What has happened
here?" She then sighed internally, expecting the customary snotty insult
about her atrocious pronunciation.

Valende blinked at Jack; then down at her
sword, as if she suddenly didn't know what it was anymore. "I never
touched it," she whispered, meeting Jack's eyes again. Her own eyes grew
bright with tears, but none fell. "I never touched it. It flew right
through my attack and..." Helplessly, she gestured to the prone figure of
Ebreth, behind her. Vas came over and put a gentle hand on his sister's arm.
"Are you all right, Valende?" he asked quietly. She nodded and
flashed him a wavering smile. Valende
sheathed her glowing sword with trembling hands and wrapped her arms around
herself. "The creature said I was next," she said to Jack, trying for
a calm tone. "I am next for what? And what does that... thing... have to
do with your rat?"

Ebreth Tor had to hand it to himself. His
attempt to divert the crowd's attention had not gone exactly according to plan,
but damn, had it worked. He would have to remember "fall prey to a hideous
undead creature" as a sure-fire way to clear out future crowds. Ebreth
smiled weakly up at Khyrisse. He couldn't believe this didn't even qualify as
one of the worst days of his life.

***

Geryon finished his coffee and sprinkled
his tip on the table.

***

"Unless I miss my mark," said Ebreth,
"that wasn't a lynch mob. Those guys were assassins deliberately after
him."

"You're the resident expert on
assassins," said Jack, happily reunited with his rat.

***

Beliath watched from across the street.
The appearance of the Collector had given him pause, but he could see now it
had only wanted to mark him. Surely the King of Kings would have no objection;
Ebreth Tor could mean nothing to him, and very much indeed to Beliath. The dean
of the Dead College started purposefully across the cobbles. Just then, a heavy
hand fell on his shoulder. When he turned two golden eyes, vertically slit like
a cat's, looked down at him.
"Grayson Mer," said Geryon. "We've missed you."